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Forever Midnight

Page 19

by Kate Hill


  “Do you want a baby?”

  It seemed a straightforward enough question, but she found herself stuttering over the answer, mentally as well as verbally. “I…I hadn’t really thought about it.”

  “Of course you have.”

  She shook her head and walked past him, out of the bathroom into the bedroom. “No, I really haven’t. I’ve thought about the fact that I can’t have a baby, not with you, and about the fact that I love you and wish sometimes that things were different—” She broke off. “That’s not the same as thinking seriously about whether I want to have a baby.”

  “I do.”

  The statement was blunt, but gentle. Piper looked at him, surprised. He was sober, a weight of sadness in his eyes.

  “Do you?”

  “Yes. A child for us to raise together—even a child not of my blood—it’s more than I ever dared to hope for.”

  Piper swallowed, her throat suddenly thick. She’d had no idea Trey felt this way. They hadn’t talked about it; she’d assumed the point was moot.

  “I think I do,” she said. “When I think about you and I not being able to—it makes me sad.”

  He nodded. “It’s not for me to decide, certainly.”

  She nodded and settled down onto the bed. “If we decide to do this, though…”

  “I know.” He came to sit next to her on the bed. Gently, he stroked her hair. “We can think about it. We don’t have to decide now.”

  Piper nodded. They had told Nadia they would get back to her in a few days. She hadn’t seemed to mind their putting her off for a bit; she’d waited three years, she could wait a few more days. But Piper knew full well Trey would have to answer her, if only to fulfill his personal obligation to her.

  Trey’s fingers gently tucked her hair behind her ear. “I have to sleep with her. You understand that. You understand why. But you don’t have to sleep with him.”

  She looked at him sidelong. “Are you telling me you don’t want me to?”

  He shrugged. “Actually, I think it might be better if you did. I just don’t want you to think you have to.”

  Piper’s eyes widened. “Really? You think I should?”

  “Artificial insemination is a complicated and expensive procedure. Invasive, but impersonal. If you don’t want to have to go through that, you shouldn’t have to.”

  “I think the expensive part was the key, there.” She gave him a wry grin to let him know she was kidding, and his return smile held more than a little relief.

  “No, not really.”

  “It might be more likely to take, the natural way,” she offered.

  “Maybe, maybe not. I would think it would depend on how nervous you were about it.”

  “That’s a good point.”

  His fingers touched the back of her neck, gently rubbing. The contact relaxed her.

  “I just want you to know I’m behind whatever decision you make. If you want to have a baby, this is an opportunity that might not come again. But there are other ways. Artificial insemination from an anonymous donor, or another donor…we could adopt…”

  “On the other hand,” she said, breaking through his voice as he trailed off, “you get to sleep with her, so what’s good for the goose…”

  “I have to sleep with her. Artificial insemination doesn’t work with shapeshifters.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Shapeshifter sperm dies very quickly. It can’t be stored outside the body. There’s been a lot of experimentation, and you just can’t keep the stuff alive.”

  “Interesting. What about the eggs?”

  “The eggs are much hardier, but still more delicate than human eggs. Human sperm is delicate, too, you know—just not as much as shapeshifter sperm.”

  “It sounds like a crock to me. Some kind of conspiracy so shapeshifter men can sleep around.”

  He smiled at her teasing tone. “I could show you the documentation. It’s all very official and scientific.”

  “No, that’s all right.” She leaned toward him, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t want you to. I really don’t.”

  “You knew this would happen.”

  “I know. I just needed to get that out of the way. I figure it’s probably better to be honest about how I feel than to keep it bottled up.”

  He nodded. “Fair enough. Honestly, I don’t want you to sleep with him, either. But if you want to have a baby, I think that would be the easiest solution, in a lot of ways.”

  “Not the emotional ways, though, maybe.”

  “Maybe not.” He sighed. “This has never been an easy thing for those of us who have chosen to be with humans. I’ve seen relationships fall apart over it, and I don’t want that to happen to us.”

  She nodded. That thought had occurred to her, as well. “We need to keep talking to each other. We need to share.”

  “Yeah.” Gently, he kissed her forehead. “We need to share.”

  * * * * *

  Piper sat up that night, in the living room with a book she wasn’t reading. Trey had gone to bed a few hours earlier; he had to see a client in the morning, and needed his sleep. Piper needed hers, too, but it was elusive tonight.

  She kept thinking about Brice. He was an attractive man, certainly, but not her usual type. She liked her men more substantial, wide, solid, and Brice was lean and slim. What would a child of his look like? Would he have the clear blue eyes? She had green eyes—so there was every possibility the genes might align properly for a blue-eyed child.

  She shook the thought off. Maybe they should go with one of the other available options—artificial insemination by an anonymous donor, or adoption. It would be easier, in some ways.

  But they would still have to deal with Trey’s need to sleep with Nadia. She thought about the small, blonde woman for a time, remembering the details of her delicate face, her golden hair. Would Trey want her to maintain that form when they made love? Or would he want her to change?

  To her surprise, she felt tears prick her eyes, but at the same time, a wave of arousal passed through her body. In her mind’s eye, she saw herself watching him as he touched Nadia’s small body, caressing her, as she writhed beneath his expert fingers. Even thought about reaching in, herself, her own hands cupping Nadia’s breasts… Was it possible she could do such a thing? Lean in over Trey’s reaching hand and take a taut, pouting nipple into her mouth…

  She had made love to Trey more than once with him in the form of a woman. She’d even made love to him while he wore her own face. Making love to herself—it had been a unique experience. But all the time she’d known it was Trey. Another man’s face, a variety of men’s faces, a variety of bodies—yet all Trey—this she had become somewhat accustomed to, in spite of her preference for stability, for the blondish, blue-eyed Trey she considered his “true” form. But another person, another man, Brice or Nadia or both…

  Again, arousal slid through her. All four of them in bed together… Trey with Nadia, she with Brice—Brice and Trey with her at the same time—

  She stood quickly, feeling her body go weak, wetness rising between her legs. The possibilities… Forbidden lusts she’d thought never to indulge. A fantasy come to life, illicit yet allowed. It was a bit too much to think about all at once, right now, when everything about the situation remained so uncertain.

  She put her book down and headed into the bedroom, quietly, so as not to wake Trey. She gathered her nightclothes and went into the bathroom to change.

  In the bathroom, she slid into her soft pink flannel pajamas. They were functional but feminine, with a row of delicate lace at the throat and sleeves. The thread holding the top button in place was frayed, the button hanging on by the last shred of pale pink cotton. She eased it carefully into the buttonhole, thinking once again that she should repair it.

  Looking up, she found herself looking into her own reflection. She normally didn’t linger over mirrors, usually looking at herself only when necessary, to put on makeup or adju
st her hair. But, for some reason, her reflection drew her tonight.

  She looked into her own eyes—gray-green, tired, a darker ring of near-brown surrounding the pupil. Her black hair fell straight around her face. She pulled it back, holding it tightly in a ponytail behind her head. Her face looked more severe that way, with her hairline rendered stark and firm.

  With a sigh, she released her hair and brushed her teeth. Then, quietly, she slipped back into the bedroom, and into the bed.

  Trey lay warm on the opposite side of the bed, his breathing deep and slow. Piper slid in next to him, careful not to disturb the blankets too much. She settled into place on the mattress, tucking the quilt under her chin and letting her head relax into the pillow. Her back barely brushed Trey’s, and she could feel his warmth radiating into her. It felt good, to have him close. It would have been nice if he’d been awake, but just this was a blessing of soft warmth and companionship. She closed her eyes, feeling his warmth, drawing in his smell.

  “Piper?”

  She jumped a little, eyes opening wide. She’d been drifting into the beginning edges of sleep, and the sound of his voice, even as soft as it was, had startled her.

  “Sorry,” he said. He must have felt her reaction. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  Piper rolled over. “I thought you were asleep. Then you started talking. It was a little disconcerting.”

  He smiled, the flash of teeth barely visible in the darkness. “Sorry.”

  She reached out to trace her hand down the side of his face. “It’s all right.”

  “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “What?”

  He shifted, sitting up in the bed. She moved with him, holding the blankets against her chest as she moved.

  “This isn’t the first time something like this has happened.”

  She quirked an eyebrow, not at all certain what he was getting at. “You mean to you?”

  “No.” He chuckled. “It’s never happened to me. But it’s happened to other couples. It’s happened enough over the centuries that there’s actually a ceremony.”

  “A ceremony?” That was intriguing. As secretive as the shapeshifter community tended to be, Piper was surprised there would be enough shifter/human pairings to make a ceremony necessary.

  “Yes. Not everyone opts to use it, but I’ve heard it’s particularly effective for those who do.”

  “Effective?”

  Trey frowned. “That’s not the right word. Moving. Meaningful. But also that it seems the successful pregnancy rate is higher when it’s used.”

  “I don’t know how they could determine that. The sample size must be tremendously small.”

  “That’s true. So there’s no way to know for sure.”

  “So what kind of ceremony is it? A bonding thing? Sort of a marriage pact among all involved parties or something?”

  “No.” Trey reached over and took her hand, almost as if to comfort her. His thumb traced rhythmically over the back of her hand. “It has to do with the sex itself—how we relate to one another. There’s incense, I believe, of a certain type, to reduce inhibitions…” He trailed off. “It’s actually a religious ceremony, though it doesn’t sound like it.”

  “No, I get that.” She shifted a little, squeezing his hand. “Sanctifying the act.”

  “Yes, exactly.”

  The unbidden thoughts she’d had earlier drifted through her brain again. Four male hands on her body, two cocks prodding into her…

  “It might make it easier,” she said. “Following a tradition, something that’s worked for other people.”

  “More than that, though. It makes it sacred, as you said. I personally think it creates a level of protection, for the mothers, for the children. I think that’s why the pregnancies tend to be more successful.”

  She smiled, unable to resist teasing him a little. “You think it’s magic?”

  He regarded her soberly. “I can change my face at will. Everything seems like magic to me.”

  Her smile faded. “I would almost think it would be the other way around, when something so incredible is such a part of everyday life.”

  He shook his head. “I can’t explain it. I guess I look at things differently—I consider that nothing may be quite what it seems on the surface.”

  “So…the ceremony. How does it work?”

  “I’d have to look up all the details. But I know it involves all four parties participating at once.”

  Piper looked at him. “For the ceremony only, or for the sexual acts?”

  “For everything. Four in a bed and the little one said…” He stopped.

  “Lame joke, Trey,” Piper said blandly. “This is all very odd.”

  “Yes, I’m sure it seems that way to you.”

  “I think it would seem that way to anyone. Anyone not a shapeshifter, anyway.”

  “Even some who are shifters, I think. Anyone who hasn’t had to face this situation before.”

  Piper nodded. “I’ll have to think about it, you know. As much, if not more, than I would have had to have thought about it, anyway.”

  “I know. I understand.”

  She smiled softly at him. “Thank you.”

  He put his arms around her, and she settled against him and slowly drifted into sleep.

  Chapter Three

  Trey woke first in the morning. For a while, he lay watching Piper sleep, taking in the peacefulness of her face. Hesitantly, he brushed a finger down her cheek, afraid of waking her but unable to resist the need to touch her. She shifted a little at the contact, but didn’t wake up.

  He rolled carefully out of bed and got dressed, then went out to the kitchen to grab a quick breakfast before he headed out to work. Piper would be heading out a bit later; Trey’s client had wanted to meet at eight a.m., and she didn’t have to be at work until nine.

  With a cup of coffee in a travel mug and a nicely portable bagel and egg sandwich, Trey headed out to the subway. The routine had finally started to feel familiar to him, after two years. He couldn’t say he enjoyed it, but it was necessary.

  Until he’d married Piper, Trey hadn’t had any particular need to hold down a job. He’d gone from place to place, picking up odd jobs here and there, enough for food and lodging, looking for people he could help. Broken people, who needed to put to rest the last shreds of a relationship. He’d been a hundred different men, a hundred different women, helping them move on. He hadn’t always slept with them—more often than not it hadn’t been necessary. But when it had seemed necessary, he had done it. It was this that had brought him into Piper’s bed.

  Piper had informed him, shortly after they were married, that his methods were questionable. He knew that, but he hadn’t spent a great deal of time thinking about it. It had seemed, to him, that he’d done some good. He’d even gone back to visit some of the people he’d helped, and, based on that experience, felt the results had been positive.

  It really hadn’t proved to be a transferable skill, though. He didn’t have any educational background to pursue a career in counseling, and professional shapeshifting wasn’t really an option. So he’d taken a few courses at the local community college, and, after putting some time and effort into building a client base, he made a fairly nice salary doing web page and graphics design for several small businesses—and a few larger ones—in the area. He enjoyed the work, and although they could have lived fairly comfortably on Piper’s salary alone, he liked the fact that he could contribute.

  He spent an hour with this latest client, discussing the basic setup the young woman was after. She seemed well-organized and motivated, and he found himself enthused along with her, and hoped her small jewelry business would take off nicely with the help of his website. She’d already built a nice customer base, which presented a definite advantage.

  Finally, he shook her hand, took her check, and left with notes, a game plan and a deadline. Heading back to his car, he called Piper.

 
“Hey,” he said when she answered the phone. “How’s it going?”

  “Okay so far.” She sounded happy, or at least not overly stressed. “Not a bad day, overall.”

  “Good to hear. Hey, I thought I might invite the Binghams over for dinner.”

  Piper hesitated. “Um, okay.”

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, not at all. I just… I’ll have to come home early to get things ready.”

  “No, don’t worry about that. I’ll be home all day working. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Oh, okay. Do you need me to pick anything up on the way home?”

  “I’ll let you know.”

  “Okay.” She sounded like she was about to say something else, but instead she cleared her throat, then said suddenly, “Oh, sorry, gotta get back to work.”

  She hung up the phone before he could say goodbye, leaving him to assume her boss had just meandered past her cubicle, as he had a habit of doing.

  He called Brice Bingham to confirm, then stopped by the grocery store on the way home, picking up the makings of a nice, laidback Italian dinner. After a few hours of work at home, he took a break, then called Nadia Bingham at work.

  “Oh, hello, Trey,” she said, sounding not displeased to hear from him. “Brice told me we’re having dinner with you tonight.”

  “Yes, that’s the plan.”

  “So you and Piper have made your decision?”

  “Not entirely.” Trey wandered through the quiet apartment, straightening knickknacks. He really should dust before the Binghams came over. “I suggested the ritual last night. To Piper.”

  There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line. “Really? What did she say?”

  “She said she’d think about it. She seemed in favor, though.”

  He heard Nadia let out a slow breath. “I was hoping someone would bring that up. I didn’t really want to, though.”

  “It would make you feel better, then?”

  “Yes. The sanctification—it just would seem better with a ritual, I think.” She paused. “I was conceived in a four-way ritual. I’m sure you didn’t know that.”

 

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